The War Bride

It is cloudy this morning. Cloudy and cool. The weatherman says it will clear. Possibly by tomorrow.

I'm okay with the overcast. I have a weekend all to me. Just me and the animals. A house to ourselves. Nothing pressing. Just things to do to feed my soul, not to mention my belly. My favourite kind of weekend.

My options this weekend are many. Listen to a couple of sessions of the course I took on Feminine Power that I skimmed over because of time constraints at the time. Check out the list of wonderful finds Glynn (or is that Gween? :)) Saturday Good Reads at his blog, Faith, Fiction, Friends today. Go back and delve into all the finds at Maureen's All Art Fridays and Saturday Sharings: My finds are your finds Saturday... Do some work on my new book. (and yes Maureen -- that is a good suggestion!) Clean the house (not likely but it is an option!) Go for a long walk with Ellie (highly probable). Go to the gym. (most definitely -- I have a meeting with my 'trainer' at 1 so I'll be there!) Go to a movie. Yup. A matinee would be perfect on an overcast day and I do want to see Eat. Love. Pray -- even though the hype bugs me. Go for dinner with a couple of girlfriends. Ahhh, now that sounds inviting.

A weekend to kick back and savour each moment without feeling the need to 'make meaning'.

It is, I realize, a challenge for me. This need to 'make meaning'. It goes along with the idea of 'taking myself seriously'. I think there's something to be drained from every moment. When in actuality, the moment only needs to be experienced. It doesn't need draining or devouring or having the essence sucked out of it. The moment is the experience and to savour it all I need to do is be in it, of it, be it.

C.C. left this morning for a drive east to Ontario with a friend. He's helping the friend get to his cottage just west of Ottawa as the friend had surgery recently and his wife doesn't want to drive with him -- and C.C. loves to go on long drives. As I waved good-bye to 'the boys' I was reminded of women throughout time waving good-bye to their men. Men going off to sea, to war, to hunt, to work, to explore, to find, to dig, to uncover, to discover. Men going off and women wondering, will you come home?

My mother did that once. 1943. My father had only recently arrived in town. After a two week whirlwind romance they were married. A quick two week honeymoon and he was off, once again, 'to the war', as she describes it.

To the war.

Were you afraid? I asked her once while capturing her story on my dictaphone.

Oh yes, she replied. The nun's warned us the soldiers would come and take advantage of us. I was scared he'd never return.

And he did.

Return.

But he was different when he returned.

War does that.

Leaving behind the ones you love does that.

Risking your life, does that.

Like the men and women fighting in Afghanistan today.

It's a long way from home. A long way back.

And so many moments in between.

And so, to honour my mother who was one of 40,000 war brides I'm posting a link to a beautiful movie -- it comes in several sections and it's lovely. I started this blog two hours ago and then got engrossed in the 'flick'.